A Moment In Time
by repmetsyrrah
Summary: A collection of short Sybil/Tom ficlets from my tumblr. Four: Sybil and Tom try to amuse themselves at the dinner table, without anyone noticing. Five: Sybil and Tom are finally leaving Downton. Six: Tom, Sybil and Sybbie share a moment at the bazaar.
1. Chapter 1

This is a collection of mostly unrelated short Sybil/Tom oneshots previously posted on tumblr. Almost all have GIFs or photosets that were originally posted with them which I'll link to on my profile page.

This is set at the picnic in 3x03.

Thanks to babageneush for the beta.

**Fairy Palace**

* * *

"Won't it be a bit cramped?"

It takes all of Tom's will not to ask Mary if she's joking.

The family will be four once they move here and she's concerned about space in a house that looks as if it could encompass an entire block of houses where he grew up?

Did she not have _any_ clue how lucky she is?

He doesn't want to upset Sybil so he doesn't point out her unbelievable ignorance and privilege, but he can't let such an absurd comment pass.

"You do realise that for most people it looks like a-"

He hesitates and a memory flashes through his mind.

_He walks briskly, holding fast to his sister's hand, through the clean streets and past houses they could only dream of living in._

_He shouldn't have stayed to talk to a friend after school, he doesn't like the short route home, it only makes him angry, and the whispers of the well-dressed people who live here are none too friendly as they see the two poor children pass by._

_He means to go straight home, not stopping for anything but halfway down the street there's a tug on his hand and he turns to find Kathy staring up in awe at one of the largest houses._

_"Who do you think lives there?" she asks, her voice a hushed whisper._

_"No one we'll ever know," Tom tells her. "Now, come along."_

_He pulls her hand, all too aware that it wouldn't do to be seen loitering here, but Kathy refuses to move._

_She sighs, still staring at the house. "It's like a fairy palace," she says, turning to him with a bright smile._

_Tom shakes his head. He wants to tell her that it'll just be home to some English bastards who probably throw their unwanted food to the dogs, lest it help feed any Irish mouths._

_But his sister is young and innocent and still believes in fairytales._

_So he simply reminds her Ma'll be waiting for them. Then pulls her hand again and walks her away from a house she'll probably dream about tonight, in the single bedroom she has to share with her whole family._

"- fairy palace."

His sister's words come out of his mouth without thought as he returns to the present. He presses his lips together and gives his sister-in-law a hard look.

_A chance of birth_, he thinks, _that's the only difference between you and that little girl on the street._

But Mary is ignoring him as usual and Tom pushes the past from his mind.

It doesn't do to dwell.


	2. Chapter 2

This ficlet takes place post-S3 in a Sybil lives AU. It was written for a manip made from a S4 promo pic. As usual, there's a link on my profile page. I thought Sybil looked rather frustrated and this happened.

Thanks to babageneush for the beta.

**Picture Perfect**

* * *

"Why are we even doing this?" Tom asked, struggling to hold the squirming two-year old.

"Because your mother wants a family picture with Liam in it," Sybil told him, a tight smile on her face as the baby in her arms started to fuss again.

"Love, just keep still, we only need one nice pic for Grandma okay?"

Saoirse seemed like she couldn't care less what her Irish grandmother wanted, kicking her legs as she sat restlessly on her father's hips.

"Just hold still, dears," Sybil begged both her children, "for Mama?"

Liam opened his mouth and gave a cry, letting his mother know exactly what he thought of that.

"Here, here," Tom murmured, leaning forward and teasing his son's hand gently with a finger.

Sybil gave a relieved sigh as the little boy's fascination with grasping his father's finger quietened him for the moment.

The door opened. "Everything alright?"

Saoirse turned at the sound of her grandfather's voice as Liam leaned unexpectedly forward in his mother's arms, forcing her to hold him tighter.

"Smile!"

The flash went off suddenly, catching all the Bransons uawares.

Sybil blinked several times as she stared hard at the photographer.

"I'm not sure that was quite the moment we wanted preserved forever, thank you," Tom sighed, as his wife turned away and tried to calm Liam who had not liked the flash and was now squalling loudly.

"Maybe you should take a break," Lord Grantham suggested.

Sybil was ready to argue. They could do this; Matthew and Mary had had no trouble with their picture. She didn't want to sit through a dinner of her grandmother's comments about why Sybil's children could not be so well behaved (if she heard the phrase 'Irish blood' used as a negative term once more she might just snap).

Then her husband leaned forward and kissed her check lightly. "Just a small break," he suggested, and Sybil wouldn't have minded the photographer capturing a rare moment of agreement between the two men.

She nodded, holding Liam close and feeling herself calm already as Tom stepped closer and put his arm around both of them.

"Just a small one," she told them, "but we_ will_ get this picture."

"I know, love. We will."


	3. Chapter 3

This was another fic written for a manip I made out of a S4 promo pic with Tom dancing in white tie. Link on my profile page.

As always, beta'd by babageneush.

**Dancing**

* * *

It had been impossible not to notice.

Especially now, watching him as he missed the steps to the dance again and laughed.

"This is harder than I thought."

"And you thought all we did was make calls and change five times a day," Sybil said, smiling back.

Isobel, holding his other hand, just chuckled with them. "It took me a while too," she assured him, "but I'm glad we got you out here."

Tom grinned as they raised their hands and spun again.

Even her father, who ignored him as much as he could, had seen it.

"You seem in a good mood tonight," he had commented, somewhat suspiciously over dinner.

Tom simply shrugged. "Not a crime now, is it?"

Sybil couldn't blame her father for wondering. Tom had gone from silent and closed, to open and laughing overnight. She couldn't blame him though, not when the end was finally in sight.

Not to mention for the first time since the argument had begun, he'd relented and worn white tie for dinner.

It was on loan from Matthew of course, but as far as Lord Grantham was concerned, so long as none of the other guests knew, that was good enough.

Sybil felt conflicted on the matter of the tails. On one hand, the sight of her passionate Irish rebel wearing something so symbolic of the English aristocracy was so out-of-place it was jarring to look at.

On the other… it did fit him so nicely…

She couldn't wait to get him upstairs and out of it.

They had to make their announcement first though.

Her mother would be sad to see her granddaughter move out, having become very attached to the child. But she at least would understand.

It would be her father who would raise the most objections. Not because he wouldn't mind seeing the back of Tom, but because he would not be able to understand how Sybil could want to leave Downton again, not when they had so much here.

"I'll be the perfect son-in-law for one night," Tom had decided the night before, still smiling from the letter he had received that morning. "Then hopefully, he'll be in a better mood when we tell him I'm dragging you into poverty again."

Sybil had frowned as she had finished feeding their daughter. "I wish you wouldn't say that, even as a joke."

"I'm sorry, love. But you know that's how he'll see it."

She hadn't been able to argue with that. To her, Tom finding a job as a journalist in London had been everything she had wanted. To her father, the small one bedroom flat his salary would afford them would look like a slum.

She had put Saoirse down to sleep before joining him in bed, settling into his waiting embrace.

"You don't have to, you know. It doesn't matter what he thinks."

"For one night I can manage," he'd assured her, "if it will make things easier. He won't stop us, but I know you don't like it when we argue."

They'd agreed to wait until after dinner, when the guests had departed and the family was hopefully worn out and in high spirits.

But for now, she smiled as he laughed and enjoyed the dance.


	4. Chapter 4

This tiny ficlet was just written for fun, there is a picset but nothing too fancy. Link on my profile page anyway.

Thanks to babageneush for the beta.

**Poker Face**

* * *

_Don't give anything away._

She couldn't look at him.

How on earth was he keeping his expression so steady?

She couldn't look long though, her next question being how on earth no one else had noticed the heat in his gaze. The way he was looking at her...

More to the point, how on earth had he managed to take his shoe and sock off without using his hands?

Because that was most definitely his bare foot sliding over the top of hers, and up-

"Sybil are you quite alright?"

She blinked, the world suddenly intruding upon their moment.

"Pardon?"

Her mother looked at her seriously.

"You look upset."

_Don't look at him._

"Just thinking."

_Damn him_.

Clearly she needed to work on her poker face.

He sunk a little in his chair, still giving nothing away and Sybil couldn't help a sharp breath as his foot travelled higher, under her dress and almost-

"_Oh_."

"Sybil?"

The foot vanished.

"I'm fine," she assured her mother, hoping desperately her voice was steady.

She rather wished he hadn't stopped.

_Maybe..._

"Tom?" Matthew asked a moment later, frowning as Sybil's husband jumped in his seat. "Is everything alright?"

Tom cleared his throat, not quite meeting the other man's eyes.

"I'm fine."

Sybil smiled, and slipped her foot back into her shoe.


	5. Chapter 5

So I spent ages a few months ago making a GIF manip and after so much effort I decided it was worthy of a ficlet. Link to the manip on my profile page as usual.

Thanks to babageneush for the beta.

**Doctor**

* * *

"What's that?"

Sybil smiled with her husband as their daughter pointed curiously to the pile of bags waiting in the entrance hall.

"I think someone's excited," Tom told her as she came to stand beside them.

"I'm not sure anyone's more excited to be leaving than you," Sybil said with a teasing smile.

Tom had been almost giddy since the news they were moving to London. At first they had feared Sybil would be going alone but fate seemed to have finally decided to smile on them for once and not a week later Tom had received a job offer at a paper not far from the school Sybil would attend.

She didn't think he'd stopped smiling since.

They had enjoyed the safety of Downton and Tom had even started to enjoy the company of some of her family but neither of them belonged here. There would be visits of course, they were still family (if at times, reluctantly). But it would never be home.

"It'll be nice not to constantly be thought of as the former chauffeur," Tom commented, seemingly out of nowhere, until Sybil caught sight of her father walking past outside.

She didn't insult him by denying that. Her sisters and brother-in-law were almost his friends now, but to her father he would never be able to move past where he'd come from.

"I've missed just being Mr. and Mrs. Branson," Sybil said, reminding him they were about to get away from all that.

Tom shifted the small child on his hip and smiled at her. She waited but unusually, he didn't speak.

She frowned.

The smile widened.

_"What?"_

"Don't you mean the _Dr. _and Mr. Branson?"


	6. Chapter 6

This little ficlet was written based on the tiny glimpse of Tom holding Sybbie while Anna plays some sort of fishing game at the bazaar in 4x08. Link to the manip I made on my profile page.

**Game**

* * *

"So how do you play this one then?"

Tom Branson looked up as his wife came to stand beside them.

"We think it's fishing," he told her, looking at the small child on his hip. "Don't we, darlin'?"

Saoirse looked up at her mother. "Duck," she announced, pointing at the water-filled tub in front of them.

"That's right, darlin', duck fishing. Shall we give it a go, then?"

He leaned down to retrieve the wooden poles from where they lay on the ground, careful to keep his daughter balanced.

"Now love, I think we have to hook one like…"

Saoirse watched with rapt attention as her father lowered the thin pole, the hook dangling from a line of string as he tried to put it into a hole on one of the coloured ducks.

"Have you seen Matthew?" Sybil asked, as Tom drew his bottom lip between his teeth, focusing intently on the task at hand. "Mary was looking for him."

"He was in the tea tent last I saw. Why is this so hard?"

Sybil laughed as he huffed, frowning in irritation when he failed again to land anything on his line.

"Da." Saoirse leaned forward and grasped the pole, pulling it from her father's hand.

"Go on then." Tom passed it over. "Maybe you'll have better luck."

Sybil smiled as her daughter waved the pole in the air, not quite understanding how the task was best accomplished but giggling delightedly as she tried to work it out.

"Did I tell you Matthew offered me the agent's position again?"

Saoirse leaned forward over the tub, and Sybil instinctively moved her arm up to steady her, though she knew Tom would never let her fall.

"It'd be more money."

Sybil shifted her attention back to her husband as he spoke, though he kept his gaze on their daughter's attempts to hook a wooden bird.

They had talked many times about the empty position of the estate agent. Matthew was insistent Tom would be perfect for the job, but Tom could never bring himself to take the position, regardless of how secure it would make them.

"Would you ever really be happy doing that?"

Tom sighed, looking up at her.

"I like your family, I do," he began. "But not…"

"Not as the representatives of an oppressive class?"

He laughed, sounding surprised, perhaps not expecting her to have remembered his words from so many years ago.

She'd be more surprised if she forgot.

He nodded.

"Exactly. I don't think I can ever support that system. Even if I like the people… or some of them…" He shook his head, and Sybil followed his gaze to the vast, stone walls of the Abbey.

They had called it home for far too long.

"Duck!"

"Ah! We got one!"

Saoirse clapped happily as Tom took the pole from her, carefully unhooking her prize before setting the little girl down and handing it to her. He held out his arm and Sybil took it, following their daughter to the stall dispensing the prizes.

"Don't take the job," she told him. "I know you don't want to."

"But it's not just myself I've got to think of now is it?"

"No," she agreed. "But nothing would make me unhappier, than to be the cause of your unhappiness."

He stopped and turned, lifting a hand to her cheek and kissing her softly.

"You've done quite a few impossible things, Sybil Branson," he told her, when they separated. "But making me unhappy could never be one of them."


End file.
